


Here Kitty Kitty

by uglywombat



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluffy, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-31 02:31:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21050726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uglywombat/pseuds/uglywombat
Summary: Steve had clearly stated you were not to leave the Tower unless it was an emergency. Burritos were clearly an emergency. And so was finding the sweet little kitten in the alleyway behind the Tower.





	Here Kitty Kitty

**Author's Note:**

> This was for a tumblr challenge by xxloki81xx
> 
> The prompt was: Don’t trust everything you see. Even salt looks like sugar.
> 
> I really hope you enjoy this fluff-fest

_ Don’t trust everything you see. Even salt looks like sugar. _

Your grandmother’s words were a judgmental, grating soap-box speech repeating like a broken record as you spied the starved little orange and white rat-like kitten, its tiny meows tugging at your heart. 

_ The things might look super cute but he’s probably disease-ridden and will destroy your furniture. Not to mention the cost. And when do you have time to look after something, you can’t even look after yourself? _

A face full of tears and soft soothing coo’s, you picked up the wrecked little ball of fur and immediately concealing it under your coat, as you juggled the bag of Mexican goodies. Was it possible to fall in love so quickly? 

New York was experiencing the monsoon to end all monsoons. You’d promised Steve, aka Captain Bossypants, that you wouldn’t leave the tower.  _ “No one should leave unless there is an emergency.” _

Well, it was clearly Steve’s fault that he didn’t clarify what he meant by an emergency. Did he mean drowning hardcore Wall Street men who had been swept away in the current? And Clint had specifically stated that he would kill someone for a burrito with the works. Always with the works. Truthfully, if Steve had been so hell-bent on everyone staying in he should have put the Tower on lockdown. 

It was because of these reasons, you figured he really wanted you to leave. Besides, could Captain America really fault you for helping out a friend.

It did not stop you from sneaking through the back entrance, after all, nobody put on a guilt trip like one Steve Rogers. The guy had probably invented them. 

The hallway was empty as you and your furry little friend made your way through the maze of the lab floor, leaving the food in the elevator and shooting Clint a quick text to intercept it before Steve found it. You had a mission to complete. 

The majority of the staff had gone home before the monsoon had reached its peak performance, flooding half of New York City and Jersey. 

You were only stuck in the Tower by chance of getting stuck in the air vent during a game of hide and seek with Clint to bide the time while you waited for your cell-reconstruction experiment to finish. It hadn’t worked. Instead, it had spectacularly exploded covering both you and a very annoyed Bucky Barnes in green gloop as he’d stood by your side waiting to take your out for dinner. He’d huffed off in a sulk, muttering in Romanian under his breath.

By the time you were gloop-free, Steve was announcing that nobody was to leave and you could sleep in a spare room on “The Avengers” floor, although deep down you knew he meant you should stay with Bucky.

You’d now been stuck in the Tower for three days, cabin fever well and truly set in. The first day had been spent making good use of the various surfaces in Bucky’s apartment. The second day had seen Bucky holed up training with Steve and Sam so you had made use of the quiet in the lab and had made your way through the mammoth pile of paperwork you were well and truly behind on. 

Today had been brutal. Fury had arrived in a blaze of glory and you had played audience to the marathon argument, Bucky storming off in a huff when Tony had told him to pipe down. You should have gone after him, however, Steve had insisted you stay to give your science-based opinion, not that you had been able to get a word in edgeways. 

Clint had cornered you when you had finally made your escape and shared his grand scheme to get Mexican. How he had managed to talk you into being the one to go you couldn’t remember.

In the sacred space of the research department’s kitchen, you closed the door and put the sweet, slightly miffed fur ball onto the dining table. You pulled off your coat, haphazardly throwing it onto a chair, before pulling out some towels and making a makeshift bed.

“Well hey little guy,” you cooed softly. The kitten meowed in response, drawing an excited and flustered  _ aww _ from your mouth.

Tony would have a conniption if he knew the kitten was here, but he was still holed up in the common room in a heated verbal disagreement with Steve and Fury about the right course of action to deal with the monsoon. 

Fury was convinced the monsoon was alien-related, Tony, however, was on the climate change argument and Steve was trying to play Devil’s Advocate. 

Tony did not like animals. He especially did not like animals in his meticulous, vermin-free research and development area, or the Tower in fact. You figured, in the safety of the kitchen he had never entered, the kitten could stay until it was safe for you to return to your apartment. 

You sat on the floor, the growling furball in your lap as you attempted to towel dry him or her; you hadn’t quite been able to determine that yet.

The kitten was sweet and cuddly once dried and fed; you made a mental reminder to yourself to replenish Rhodey’s secret tuna stash as you lay out on the R&D’s communal couch in front of the TV as the news anchor bore on about the rain.

As the kitten slept, purring against your chest, you wondered what to do. If the monsoon didn’t abate soon how long could you honestly stayed holed up in the R&D department? It wouldn’t take much longer before Steve realized you had disappeared from the floor you had been told not to leave and would come looking for you. Surely, Bucky would stop sulking and come look for you.

The gentle purr of your new friend was relaxing and soon you found yourself daydreaming of Bucky. Sweet, quiet Bucky. Well, Moody, dark, brooding Bucky. He had been a bit of an enigma in the beginning.

You’d had little opportunity to spend time with him away from Tony, and as the card-carrying grudge king of the world, Bucky was clearing walking on eggshells or hot coals in Tony’s case. 

Underneath the brooding, silent act, there were glimmers of a funny smart ass, brought out by Sam and Steve.

And there was no denying Bucky was an attractive man. In fact, he was hot. He looked like the kind of guy who would fuck you hard and dirty and then take you to dinner at his parents. Except, for obvious reasons, he couldn’t do the latter.

And then one day, in the midst of a Tony-tantrum you’d find yourself hiding in a broom closet with Bucky, only to be locked in for six hours whilst the Tower went into lockdown. 

You’d been dating for a year now, spending your time between his apartment in the Tower and yours in the dodgy end of Brooklyn.

You dreamt of Bucky bringing you those delicious pistachio macarons and an iced caramel latte as an afternoon pick me up before making out with you over your recent research. Hot, grabby hands, grinding in his lap, Tony coming in and yelling at you to get a room…

Except when you are startled awake it’s not Tony’s lap your socked feet are in but Bucky’s. The kitten is curled up on his stupidly broad shoulder fast asleep and purring a little lullaby.

“You know Steve is having kittens about you leaving the Tower.”

You snorted as you sat up and curled into his side. “Firstly, haha having kittens. Secondly, F.R.I.D.A.Y. you are no longer my friend. I don’t trust snitches.”

“I apologize, Miss,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. drawled, “but I’m afraid that the Captain outranks you.”

“Yeah well the Captain is a schmuck and you can tell him I said that,” you sighed, cuddling further into Bucky as he wrapped his arm around you. 

“Who’s your friend?” Bucky asked as his vibranium fingers sifted through your hair. 

“Found him in the alley when I was sneaking back in,” you said as your fingers fussed his lusciously soft track pants; you filed those away in your steal list. Bucky always had the most comfortable clothes. “Couldn’t leave the poor little guy out there on his home. He would have ended up in Queens with all this rain, or eaten by an alligator.”

Bucky scoffed. “You need to lay off the reality tv.”

“I’m sorry but that is rich coming from you. Don’t think I didn’t see you sneak out of movie night last week to catch up on  _ Great British Bake Off _ .”

Bucky chuckled that warm, homely chuckle, the one that made you feel safe and wanted. 

“What are you going to call him?” he asked as you moved to lay your head in his lap. 

  
“I was thinking Tony. I could keep him in the lab as a mascot, maybe get him a little Iron Man costume.” Bucky laughed, the kitten snoring gently through the avalanche. “On a scale of one to ten, how mad is Steve?”

“Well, he was a six when he first couldn’t find you which escalated to a nine when F.R.I.D.A.Y. snitched on you. The nine quickly exploded into a twenty when he discovered Clint eating burritos in the hallway closet.”

You sighed. Steve was no fun. Literally, the man could have been at Coney Island and he still would have ruined the fun. 

“I told him I’d find you and let him have some time to calm down,” Bucky smirked as his fingers wandered underneath your jumper. 

“Stop, not in front of the child,” you chided grabbing his hand and bringing it back to your hair. “How long do you think it will be until he calms down? I’m really hungry. I didn’t even get to eat my burrito bowl.”

Bucky laughed, again the kitten sleeping soundly through the quaking. “Oh poor baby, are you hungry? Did you at least get me something?” You nodded with a smirk, your lips briefly touching him. “Well, he’s gone to the gym when F.R.I.D.A.Y. became Benedict Arnold and told him you were on the R&D floor.” You grumbled, the A.I. quickly being demoted on your Christmas gift list. “Your little stowaway, however, remains a secret. Seriously, what are you going to do with him?”

You sighed sitting up and slouching against his chest, your legs wrapped around his waist. “I don’t know. I was hoping this monsoon would stop soon and I could sneak him home without anybody noticing. I don’t really have any supplies for him. I had to crack into Rhodey’s creepy stash of tuna.”

“Would your landlord even let you have a cat?”

Why was Bucky being the party pooper? When did he turn into Oscar the Grouch? That was Steve’s job. 

“No,” you groaned dramatically, wrapping one arm around his stupidly thin and hard waist, your free hand stroking your new friend. “Okay, I haven’t really thought it through, but I couldn’t just let Little Tony suffer. Don’t you know what hides in the New York water mains? Or worst he could have been picked off by a ravenous rat.” 

Bucky chuckled pressing a warm kiss to the top of your head. “You could always move in with me.” You flummoxed, searching his face for the signs of a joke, which usually sat in his brow and the creases around his eyes. “I’m serious. I’m ready to move on from here and well, I love you.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

“Really really,” he said pulling you into a heated kiss. 

“I love you too,” you moaned, grinding gently into his lap, your kiss quickly heating up.  _ Meow. _ You both giggled as Little Tony bumped against you. “Let’s do it. Let’s get a cute little place together. But Little Tony is coming with me. He and I are a package deal and you are going to have to take both of us,” you teased, slowly running the tip of your pointer finger over the bridge of his nose. 

  
“Fine, but we are  _ not _ calling him Little Tony.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to leave a comment. I love them! Good bad or ugly, they really help me improve.


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